


What the Moon Brought

by matan4il



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, I miss Aaron with dogs, M/M, Robron Secret Santa, Secret Santa, Were-Creatures, were-dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matan4il/pseuds/matan4il
Summary: The moon brought this dog to him. Fierce and wild. Almost wolf-like. The young prince was certain it was lunar forces at work. Its fur most certainly shined in the night as though the moon itself birthed it.Robron secret santa 2017 gift to @emiliagrant (originally posted on Tumblr).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emilia_g](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilia_g/gifts).



> _Dear Emilia,  
>  I was going through your blog, looking for ideas on what I could gift you with this holiday season when I read about your dog. I was so sorry for you, but also deeply touched by your love for Henry. That gave birth to this fic. I hope it’ll be to your liking! As a bonus, Aaron has artistic tendencies in honor of your lovely visual fan creations. Thank you for all the joy you bring to the fandom and may you always get just as much in return! xox_
> 
> * Additional note: Aaron had a perfectly happy childhood in this one, so Gordon is not his father and the abuse never happened.

The moon brought this dog to him. Fierce and wild. Almost wolf-like. The young prince was certain it was lunar forces at work. Its fur most certainly shined in the night as though the moon itself birthed it. Prince Aaron was mesmerised by it. By the size of the canine. By the intensity of its gaze. The wiser choice was clearly not to approach the beast. Yet, he could not tear his eyes away from it. That silver fur. It seemed so inviting to him.

The castle’s garden paths were safe territory for the prince. Aaron had spent his entire life walking them. His happy childhood was greatly made up of playing in even the furthest corner. He knew every shrub and each stone. There were no secrets in store for him there. No dangers. But the dog’s black eyes with thin silvery rings around their center were upon him. Compulsory. It made the night more foreign, the gardens less familiar. Excitement pricked along Aaron’s skin. He reached his hand forward slowly. Allowing the dog to come to him.

Childhood wasn’t the only perfectly happy time in Prince Aaron’s life. Most of his years were carefree. He lacked for nothing, be it materialistic needs or the affection of all who surrounded him. All that he wanted, he got. Including the most loyal companion of all, Henry. Tiny, brownish white and fluffy. Ears hanging down and an abundance of love reflected in his chestnut, intelligent eyes. Aaron got him as a birthday gift from his mother. 

“You’re six years old now, love,” she said. “I think you’re old enough to care for another. Don’t you?” Queen Chastity smiled widely and motioned for a servant to bring forward a straw basket. “His name is Henry,” she added as she gestured at the hamper. 

“Can I, mum?” Aaron asked and not waiting for an ansewr, he raised the lid. A furry, almost miniature head popped out, eyes impossibly big, and Aaron’s total devotion was born. It was a reciprocal emotion. From that day on, no matter where the adventurous little prince slept in the castle, so did the tiny pup. Wherever Aaron went, so did the ball of curly hairs. The garden lanes were ones they had explored together. There were long cuddling sessions as well. The prince could never grow too sad since Henry was always there to nudge at Aaron’s side with his nose. To take the edge away with a lick of his short, round tongue. Safety, warmth and happiness were linked with Henry’s presence. The prince’s young life was indeed a perfectly happy one. He had never known real sorrow or deep loss. Until the passing away of Henry.

It had only been a few months since Henry had succumbed to old age, having led a long, content life. But the pain still cut through Aaron as if it were fresh. There was a new touch of loneliness to all his experiences. A wound that no one around him could help cure. The prince had no real previous notion of such things, nor of how to deal with them. On nights of full moon, he continued to walk the castle gardens precisely as he had used to with Henry. There was something about the pallid light flooding the grounds around him. Or perhaps about the sound of the ocean waves, breaking on the rocky shore just below the palace. It made Aaron feel the absence of Henry, the hurt over it, more acutely. In a way, he held onto that.

Maybe that was why, when faced with the strange dog, Aaron’s first thought was of the moon bringing it to him. It might have been the shimmering hue of the fur that also contributed to the forming of that thought, or those silvery eye ringlets. Whatever the reason, the prince felt compelled. His hand already stretched out forward, he calmly called out, “come” and waited.

Surprised and unsurprised at the same time, Prince Aaron looked on in fascination as the dog got closer. There were no signs that it was about to bark. A brave one, it would seem. Perhaps dangerous as well, but Aaron didn’t move his arm away. He watched with captivation as the dog smelled his hand from a small distance. Then, as if the prince had passed some sort of a test, the dog licked it. What was it that moved in that instant inside Aaron’s chest? This dog was not Henry. It never would be. No dog would ever replace his late friend. Aaron’s childhood and adolescent years were Henry’s and his alone. All the experiences they had shared could never be re-shared with any other canine companion. Having been aware of that was precisely why the prince had assumed he would never again know the affection expressed through such a simple gesture as he has just been shown. He had rejected all offers to have a new dog when those were made to him. Yet, here he was. And it didn’t feel like a betrayal of Henry, either. The two dogs were so vastly different, almost opposites. This silver haired dog was a reminder, yes, but not a replacement. It licked at Aaron’s hand again and the same warmth at open affection flooded through the prince once more. His mind told him the dog couldn’t possibly be showing that sentiment. But it felt like that was precisely what was being indicated to him.

The dog, on its part, ceased and stretched its head forward, expectant. Prince Aaron’s fingers could finally, carefully, sink into the fine fur, petting. It was just as soft as it appeared. Possibly more so. “There, there,” he murmured. “Aren’t you a thing of beauty?” The dog came even closer, nudging its head further into Aaron’s touch. The prince smiled. “Yes, you like that, don’t you?” He added a few scratches behind the dog’s ear. A low, pleased growl told him that his efforts were being appreciated.

When Prince Aaron found himself facing the dog, he had no intentions of bringing it back with him into the castle at first. Now, he couldn’t help but rethink that. The thought of parting after this, it ached within the very thing that had moved earlier in Aaron’s chest. 

“What are we going to do with you now?” he asked. As if the dog could understand his words, it moved further up to him and pressed its massive body against Aaron’s thigh. The prince’s hand naturally fell to the side of the dog and, as he crouched down a bit, resumed petting it there. Smiling, Aaron uttered affectionately, “is that so?” His mind started supplying images of taking the dog in, of his mother’s displeasure, of the reluctance the servants would certainly display in even approaching the beast. Of bringing the dog to his room and sleeping calmly through the night for the first time in months.

Aaron leaned in, catching the smell of the dog, unlike any he had come across so far. “Home it is, then.”


	2. Chapter 2

While Prince Aaron had no qualms about his decision, his evaluation that there would be difficulties due to it did come true. Queen Chastity was quite vocal about her dismay. As much as her son resisted giving up on the matter, she wouldn’t relent either. She’d simply changed arguments, accumulating more and more of them. 

“Aaron, love, if you wanted a new dog, I could grant you any number that would be far more reasonable in size,” she repeated one certain morning her disapproval of the canine in yet another variation.

“I wasn’t aware we were lacking in space,” he answered. It was the tone of his voice that made it clear to her that he had indulged her enough and this was the end of the discussion. He didn’t usually adopt this approach unless absolutely necessary, making this instance his final say. 

After the queen had accepted that there was no arguing his decision away, everything else fell into place as well. The servants had found all that was needed for the dog’s care and fashioned everything in the amounts or size required. They were fearful at first, but soon came to trust the dog’s presence posed no threat to them. It was present at all meals by Aaron’s chair. Though his mother would never admit it, he was certain that she too began growing fond of the beast. He caught her once or twice looking in amusement at its antics when he would play with it in the gardens, running together or toying with a stick that the prince would throw around for the dog to catch and retrieve. Some of the servants grew bold enough to come near it after a while. Much as the dog accepted such proximity when Aaron cooed for the beast to, it would still only allow the prince to feed or groom it. As soon as one of the servants attempted to do it, there was no calming down the dog’s growling and barks. None of them would brave finding out whether its bark truly was worse than its bite.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Prince Aaron’s mother remarked once, seeing her son’s smirk at yet another such attempt, “I would think you quite liked that you’re the only one it trusts with that.”

“He’s not an ‘it’, Mum,” Aaron replied sharply. “His name is Lunar.” But that was the last time he tried to see whether his dog could be taught to accept care from another person.

Soon enough, the full moon rose again. Aaron looked at Lunar. It struck him as though the dog was looking back with restless expectation. As if he too, like his owner, was itching for a nocturnal walk in the moonlit garden ways. ‘The moon brought him to me,’ the prince reflected for the first time since their chance meeting. It suddenly crossed his mind that what was brought to him out of nowhere, could just as easily be taken away. Such unfounded fear, Aaron told himself. He had to pet Lunar’s fur and calmly say, “Come on, boy. Out we go. The moon is calling for us.”

They walked the garden paths that night and Lunar appeared to love it. He wouldn’t retreat when Aaron attempted to, kept pressing onwards. They ended up descending to the sea shore below the castle. Every rock seemed to shimmer on their way. Every wave glowed. The sea’s murmurs sounded like an enchantment in some unknown language. The night itself seemed to be alive with a kind of foreign magic. Lunar, as far as he was concerned, could not get enough of it, constantly pulling the prince further and further along. By the time Aaron insisted on turning them back to the castle, he was tired enough that sleep overcame him as soon as his head hit the pillows.

He slept. And in his sleep, he dreamt. A stranger came to him. Into his bedroom, into his bed. Where Aaron lay naked, as was his custom each night. A beautiful young man came. With soft, golden hair that shone in the moonlight. With a full mouth that ravaged the prince. The kisses that were planted along Aaron’s skin inflamed his body and satiated his soul. In his sleep, the prince unashamedly moaned. In his dream, he returned every kiss with abundance. A familiar stranger, another part of himself he had never before known. They made love for hours. It was a good dream.

The morning peeked in with persistent rays of sun, rudely jarring the prince out of his sleep. Waking up was an odd mix of contentment and sorrow. He was content to remember the dream when conscious. To touch his lips, which felt swollen. As if his body was playing along with the nocturnal vision, holding on to what it made Aaron feel. He was also sorrowed to have the memory begin to slip away from him due to the setting in of full wakefulness together with a terrible sense of fatigue. He was tempted not to leave his bed, but to surrender himself back to slumber. Perhaps he could slip back into a continuation of the dream.

A servant’s knock at the door prevented this. The knock was a reminder. Aaron rose from bed despite his reluctance. He called out to let the man meant to attend to him know he was allowed to enter the chamber and help dress the prince. In the corner of the room, Lunar raised his head from his fur rug as the door opened. Then he dropped it down once more, eyes closing again. Lucky dog, Aaron smirked. It wasn’t time yet for Lunar’s morning walk and there were no courtly duties beckoning him. The knock at the door was an unwelcome reminder. This day was set months beforehand to be the one when they would all meet with messengers from the adjacent kingdom. The day meant to seal his future, setting him up officially to wed the princess of that realm.

“Aaron, my love,” his mother had explained. “It is tradition. Our house and theirs. Every fifty years, we must renew our alliance by means of marriage.” Only he could keep the alliance going. Only he, despite never having as much as set eyes on the princess he was due to wed. Despite never having seen any maiden he would have wished to. In a way, that was why he eventually gave in to his mother’s plea. If no marriage contract would bring him joy, how was this one different to any other? From this arrangement at the very least some benefit would come to their two kingdoms.

He walked into the Throne Hall and took the place of the prince, Lunar at his side. Once all were seated, the royal messengers approached with the due show of respect. They presented the contract awaiting signature with the terms of marriage. They delivered a portrait of his intended bride. Aaron noticed with a smidge of unkind mirth their unease at the dog standing guard next to his seat. He petted Lunar’s head, calming him down. Reaching out, he accepted the princess’ portrait drawn especially for him. She was beautiful in the painting, he admitted to himself, though how sincere the portrait was remained to be determined. Aaron recited her name internally as he examined her features. It was a name meant to make one think of that which is sacred. At which, Aaron found himself remembering his dream. How he was kissing that stranger. The reverence with which his body was touched.


	3. Chapter 3

Life didn’t change for Prince Aaron immediately after the signing of the contract. It would take some time before that document would come into effect. Until that moment, he could continue spending his days as he had before: going on long walks; playing around with his dog; studying the secrets of governing a kingdom; sketching scenes from his daily life. The last one Aaron would probably have to renounce once he was married. That could be the reason why he was drawing more than he ever had before. The views of and around the palace, the faces of the people passing through it, as well as the ones living there, Lunar on his rug or in the middle of a run along the shore, the princely bedchamber from an assortment of different angles. The man from the dream. Oh, Aaron tried to capture the latter on paper desperately.

He had increasingly more repetitions of the dream to go on. Every few weeks, when he was particularly tired, it would happen. An exuberant Lunar would exhaust him on another of their moonlit walks, he would full asleep instantly and the image of the young man would recur. Beautiful and tantalizing. Lithe in Aaron’s arms. Around him. Wild and passionate. By the third recurrence, Aaron knew the body hovering above him enough to surprise the stranger and take charge. And drive sound after sound of pleasure from between the luscious lips Aaron had come to think of as his. He had kissed them that much, after all. When their limbs were entangled in the dream, it was easy to believe that the border between the two of them had been blurred. That Aaron would wake up and the young man would still be there. His.

Aaron tried to capture the visage, one crumpled up sketching sheet after the other. It was of no use. Try as he did, familiar and tangible as the images might have been in his mind, most of it did not transfer onto paper. Lunar would sometimes poke at his side when he worked. The dog obviously grew tired on those occasions and wanted to go out, but would still patiently watch on if Aaron refused to budge. “Just one more try, boy,” the dog would get one ear scratched as both compensation and a promise.

There was one specific drawing where Aaron got closer to his goal than in others. Lunar tilted his head at it. The prince chuckled and picked it up from his lap, holding it closer. “You can see that he’s beautiful, can’t you?” his voice sounded too wistful even to his own ears. He sighed. “I wish he were real,” Aaron leaned into Lunar’s side for some measure of comfort. Letting himself sink a little into the soft fur. “It’s probably for the best that he’s not. I would have definitely run away with him. And then imagine how furious mum would have been…” He had to laugh a bit at the thought, halfheartedly. Lunar whined lowly. It was as if he understood that it wasn’t precisely a happy laughter. He licked the side of his owner’s face. That made it impossible for Aaron to be too miserable. “Alright, boy,” he got up. “Let’s get you exercised.”

When they returned from their stroll, a servant straight away ran up to the prince to let him know that he was needed in the Throne Hall. Still perspiring and with Lunar on his heels, Prince Aaron entered the hall and was disheartened by the immediate hush. This was a sign. They were waiting for him especially. His mother nodded for him to come forward. He looked around as he did. Picking them out easily by their attires, the prince noted that the royal messengers from their neighbouring kingdom had returned. 

“My son,” the queen said in her formal tone. “There’s good news to be shared. We are to hold a wedding here earlier than expected.” She stopped and Aaron knew what she feared. That this surprise would see the return of his inclination to refuse the marriage. “Here is the king’s personal envoy, Sir Ross of Barton. He’s arrived to aid with the preparations.”

The prince bowed his head at the envoy, who returned the gesture. Lunar was subtly growling beside Aaron. The dog’s mistrust prompted the prince to survey the high ranking messenger. Lunar was right, he looked like a right twat. 

“Highness,” the envoy addressed the queen, “with your permission, shall the prince and I retire to discuss some of the more practical matters at hand?”

The queen looked at her son pointedly. “You shall. I expect to be informed of the finalised details you’ve agreed upon this very evening at the latest,” she proclaimed and motioned for them to leave. They both bowed their heads to her and exited the hall together.

“May I suggest we go into the gardens? Walking through them may help inspire us,” Prince Aaron quickly shot. In truth, he wanted Lunar close by and not just for solace. An outdoors discussion was less likely to allow the envoy an opportunity to ask the canine be removed from their company. The dog, with his natural animalistic honesty, displayed his dislike of the visitor more than Aaron could. His low growling seemed to only intensify since they’ve walked out of the hall. Sir Ross inspected the dog cautiously and seemed to agree somewhat reluctantly. “As you please, Sire,” was his diplomatic response.

The walk ended up proving uneventful, much as it did remain tense throughout. Prince Aaron could not make out from the envoy’s evasive answers why the sudden need for hurry in conducting the wedding sooner than originally planned. Lunar walked between the two of them the entire time. He kept a constant stream of low level growling and never left Aaron’s side to run ahead or give chase after some passing smaller creature. Not even when the prince expected him to, considering the dog’s habits. Sir Ross seemed to eye their canine companion continuously and in discomfort. That pleased Aaron more than it should have. Despite the tension, both were civil throughout, as would be expected of them, and they reached an understanding on all accounts. On when the princess would arrive, on the size of the dowry she would bring with her, on their living arrangements once married. When they parted ways, Aaron thought he noticed Sir Ross hiding a small smirk. Just when the envoy turned his back and left, Lunar stepped behind him, as if he were about to follow the foreigner and attack him.

“There, there,” Aaron did his best to reassure his dog there was no need of that, hand running through the fine fur. “He’s full of wind, but he’s not got the capacity to cause any real harm.”

Lunar was only slightly less agitated after that, but the prince paid little mind to this fact. That night, there was about to be another full moon.


	4. Chapter 4

They went through the same routine, Aaron and Lunar. The same walk in the moonlight, the same perseverance on the dog’s part that led them to walk further than on their usual daily strolls. There was the same sense of crackling magic in the air all around them. Yet something was different. Lunar was more on edge. Most likely he would remain so until Sir Ross’ departure, Aaron pondered. He was too. Maybe influenced by his dog’s mood. Or maybe it was the certainty of what’s to come that night. By the end of their walk, he had hardly felt any exertion. He turned them around, headed back to the castle, despite feeling like he could have continued for hours still.

That night, as Aaron was laying himself down to sleep, it wasn’t an all consuming sleep that took him. He drifted away, but never quite slipped under. Hovering on the edge of consciousness. Never fully parted from it.

Then, a familiar touch.

His beautiful young man was there. Aaron allowed himself to open his eyes partially and with great caution. His vision was somewhat bleary, but he was so very present. And so apprehensive. His gaze took in golden hair, familiar features, a smile. He knew that one. He had kissed that smile and, for the first time, Aaron was sure it was never a dream. It was all real, impossible and insane as that might seem. The mouth he was glaring at came closer to him and Aaron watched as the lips parted on their way to his ear. He closed his eyes again to let the words coming out of that mouth fill him.

“Aaron,” he heard the man’s voice. A low and rich one. An unbearably intimate whisper while familiar hands softly trailed all over the prince’s body. “Aaron, please. Don’t marry her.” 

He shuddered. The voice itself made him tremble as much as the intent in the words did. Because more than anything, he wanted to cave in and do exactly as he was asked.

“Aaron,” an added kiss, “please. I could be yours, if you were just mine.” He couldn’t make out the intention behind that. He would have been at a loss for words, for actions… if it weren’t for the kissing. That, that was known by then, posed no puzzlement. It required no mental faculties, only the flow of what came naturally to Aaron. He moved his head sideways to capture the stranger’s lips in a deepening kiss. Leaning up on one arm, he used his other hand to pull the man further into the meeting of their mouths. The stranger let him. He allowed himself to be devoured by Aaron, arms framing them. Before he broke it off. “Please,” he repeated, with almost no breath left.

“Who are you?” Aaron asked. 

The stranger was startled by this. “You… You can hear me,” he said with genuine wonder.

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” Aaron asked, his finger gently traveling the length of the man’s jaw, his cheeks, his lips.

“Yes, but… I’ve called out to you so many times. You’ve never heard me before,” was the response before the man parted his lips for Aaron’s wandering finger. It traced the inside of the lower lip, red and swollen, nearly bursting. The man kissed its tip as unimpedingly as he was able to. When he did, Aaron couldn’t resist the temptation and he pushed his digit in. He was recalling how he had already done so more than once. This time, he knew, he’d encounter no problems if he tried sketching this moment.

“Who are you?” he repeated, as if hypnotised.

“Aaron,” the man said, “you know who I am. You always have.”

The prince blinked at that. A sensation not unlike cold crept through him. He let his hand and his body fall back onto the bed. A mirrored fear flashed across the handsome stranger’s face. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. It was so startlingly honest, the care in his features and his voice. Aaron shut his eyes against it.

“If we know each other,” he said, not entirely sure of himself, “then you would have also been aware that I have no choice. I must marry.”

Silence. It felt too similar to being alone, to discovering it was but a dream after all. Aaron had to open his eyes once more, dreading that he wouldn’t find anyone there. It was a relief to encounter the man’s pleading eyes before him, big and unfathomably bright. Clearer than they’d ever been in any of their previous nights together. The prince repeated words which were the opposite of what he longed to say. “I must marry. For the good of the kingdom.”

The man above him let his head fall, his chin almost pressing against his own chest. Aaron’s heart ached. Uncontrollably, he resumed caressing the side of his mysterious visitor’s face. Lifting it back up, unable to get enough of the sight. The man’s eyes looked tenderly back into Aaron’s. He then moved his hand over their bodies, feeling all the places where they were hard and where they were soft. There was love in that touch. Aaron understood and he longed to surrender to that feeling, let it wash all over him. He pulled his lover’s torso flush against him and wordlessly, they let their passions speak. It was both the same and more than it had ever been up until that night. Same familiar thrill. More vivid, more breathtaking. They were more thorough in exploring each other’s bodies, in kissing every inch. Aaron etched every second onto his memory. Because he could now. Because it must never fade away again. Because that night was probably shaping out to be the last time they’d ever get to share themselves with the other.

Aaron didn’t want to fall asleep. He never wanted that night to reach its end. But hours of love making, delicate in parts, stormy, insatiable, fragile love, left him drained. A split second before he let go of consciousness in spite of himself, his gaze fell on Lunar’s rug. The dog wasn’t there, he noted. Most strange was that Aaron never left the door open at night, nor did Lunar ever seek to leave their chamber before sunrise. He would have to check that once he was up. Later. Later, when it would be time for daily routine to take over. Later, when the world in its cruelty would take possession of Prince Aaron once more, dictating the course his life would take and the path he would not be allowed to follow.

But when Aaron was jerked awake, it had not been as many hours later as he’d expected. How pale the rays of light were, falling in through the window. That told him right away it was not yet quite morning. And what startled him from his sleep was not his daily schedule either, cited to him by one of the servants. It was a piercing scream, transformed halfway through into a pained howl. A dog’s howl. His dog! Aaron looked at Lunar’s corner straight away. The rug was empty of its dweller. His mind was racing to try and arrange the information that he had together with all that he was missing into something that made sense, when it struck him. He knew the voice which had screamed.


	5. Chapter 5

Aaron looked into the yard from his window while putting on his clothes in a hurry. He had spotted the trail of blood instantly. That was why he also pocketed a few tubes of ointments he still had from the days when the court physician had been instructing him in the art of healing. He’d never been more appreciative of his mother’s insistence that a monarch must be acquainted with every domain of human knowledge. Once he had all that he estimated he would need, he took one last look out the window at the trail. It started a bit further from the gate and he ran down and out of the palace doors to that spot. A small crowd of people had already been huddling around it.

Aaron searched the group of bewildered faces. Sir Ross was there, hair out of place and sword drawn out in hand. “What has happened?” the prince demanded of him.

“As it turns out, the information that our king had been given was accurate. You have been harboring a werebeast in your court. Tell me, Prince Aaron, how many times have you let your cynanthrope walk around the gardens in its human form, as it had this night?” Sir Ross’ voice grew ever louder the longer he went on and the crowd kept gathering and growing. “How long has it been using its dog form to strike terror into the hearts of the unsuspecting people of your kingdom?” He was clearly putting on a show of concern for his audience, to get them riled up. The queen with a small entourage was approaching. The way the prince was familiar with her ways, she was most likely already filled in on every last detail. She could not have been happy with him.

But Aaron cared far less than he normally would about the envoy and his antics or what his mother might say. He was too upset to. “What did you do, Sir Ross? Where is he?”

“It,” the envoy emphasised, “got what it deserved. I’ve stabbed it before it managed to run off. It’s wounded and probably dying.” He waved his hand dismissively at the blood stains, but his tone betrayed his glee.

Aaron’s chest was still heaving and not just from his running there. The trail led to the shore below the castle. Not taking his leave, he started in the same direction when his mother swiftly and composedly stepped into his path. She placed her hands on his arms, not unkindly but firmly. “Son,” she said quietly and he recognised that her calm tone was a mask, meant for other eyes watching them. “You are needed here.” She leaned in closer to speak her next words much lower, for only his ears to catch without her full on whispering. “You can’t go down there. If you go to the beach, their king will hear of this and he will believe that you do not regret any of what has happened. He could annul the marriage contract. If he does, our alliance will be dissolved and the kingdom may suffer for it.”

Her eyes were big and the worry in them, sincere. Aaron’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. Before it started to beat even faster than before. “Mum, look at me. Remember how sad I was when Henry had just passed away? There were days when I felt like I wouldn’t be able to go on. Everything hurt. And nothing helped with that agony. Nothing but him. He came to me when I needed him most and he made everything better. Now he’s wounded and in need of me. What kind of a king would I be if I didn’t try to find him and help? What kind of a man?” He waited a second for it to sink in. “Mum. I love you. And you love me. So be honest. You want better than this from me. We both do.”

Aaron looked at her and he could tell she was seeing the entirety of his childhood playing out before her eyes in a flash. His prepubescent years, his maturing right in front of her. He could make out how her love was filling her heart and spilling over into a small nod. Hesitant at first. It grew somewhat bigger before she moved out of his way. She then spoke as loudly as she could without being perceived as having lost her composure. “And so you must go there and for the sake of all in the realm, you must find the beast and bring it back to court, contained. We will then see what is to be done with it.”

Aaron smiled and nodded gratefully to her before resuming the path he’d started on. Two, three steps and he was running. He’d lost a lot of time already. He prayed not too much. The trail led him down the shore and to a familiar area. There was a small cave a mere few steps from the sea which he and Lunar had discovered together. He picked up his pace. When he reached the entrance to the cave, he stopped. Listened. It wasn’t a big cave, but in the dark, it was difficult to find the right direction all the same. Fear washed over him like nausea. What if he was too late already? 

“Lunar?” he called out. What other name could he use? His ears strained. He thought he might have heard something, but it could have been his heart’s desire playing tricks on him. “Lunar?” he cried out again. This time he was sure he wasn’t dreaming the weak whimper his ears had picked up on. He started making his way toward it. “Hang in there, I’m coming.” His feet fumbled onwards. A few seconds later, he could vaguely make out a big body laying on the cave floor in front of him. Its breathing was heavy. Aaron sank to his knees and felt along it carefully, making fur out from skin, until his hand discovered the wound. Instinctively, he closed his palm over it, to stop any bleeding that might have still been occurring. To his relief, when exchanging one hand for the other in doing this, he could sense the first was dry. The bleeding must have stopped even before he’d arrived. This freed him up to fish out the ointments tubes out of his pocket. After applying the balms and putting the tubes away again, he tore a part of his sleeve off and into long stripes. He used those to bandage the wound.

A calmness fell over the prince. The injury did not run as deep as Sir Ross might have imagined it to have. Not if it stopped bleeding before Aaron had arrived. The ointments would quicken the healing process, while the bandage would keep the area protected and safer from the threat of being reopened. The only thing to still worry about was the loss of blood already inflicted on Lunar. The court physician had no wisdom on how to aid with that, but Aaron could try and protect the body before him from losing more heat. He laid down and drew it into his own lap as much as he could, wrapping his own limbs around Lunar’s and encircling him.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine now.”


	6. Chapter 6

Aaron stared at nothing in particular for hours. He lost all track of time. He couldn’t tell when exactly he’d fallen asleep with Lunar in his embrace. When he had awoken, it was with a start. His lap was empty. From where he was lying on the cave floor, he could see the opening and through it, the moon. Almost whole in the night sky. 

The dread that snatched him out of his sleep mildly subsided. Lunar was surely just outside. When Aaron stepped out, he found that he wasn’t wrong. On a rock not too far from where the waves were breaking, the mysterious man’s now familiar frame was stood. His back was turned to the cave and but for the bandage at his lower side, he was fully nude. Watching how the sea foam was coming over only to then be pulled away from the rocks.

“How are you doing?” Aaron asked, having come to stand almost directly behind the man.

“Just as you said I would be,” the now familiar voice, warm, carried over with the sound of the waves, “quite fine.”

The man turned around and Aaron immediately looked down at the bandaged area. The cloth was white with no signs of the wound having been ruptured again. “I should examine that,” he said, then realised where it looked like his eyes were darting. He turned his head away quickly and hated how obvious and awkward he was being.

“It’s alright,” the man smiled. “You’ve seen it all before.” He came closer to Aaron and his grin grew wider. “You’ve sucked it all before, too”.

“Right,” Aaron cut him off with a sudden sense of urgency, “well, that was…” He didn’t know how to finish his sentence. It was odd how exposed the stranger physically was while it was Aaron, despite being the clothed one, who was more embarrassed by their current situation. “I really should make sure there’s nothing wrong with the wound.”

“Go ahead.”

The stranger’s tone indicated his amusement with Aaron’s predicament over the disparity in their state of undress.

The prince was not liking it one bit. “Sit, so I can have a proper look,” he adopted his commanding tone.

“Yes, Sire,” the emphasis was placed on that last title before the man walked over to a sandy spot on the beach and slumped down. 

Aaron followed suit. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Just a lot,” the man flashed his smile at Aaron.

“Careful with the cheek or I might end up stabbing you myself.” Aaron reached over and undid the bandage. He inspected the flesh beneath it. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked while using the lightest of touches to prod the injury. 

“Not one bit,” came the response. To Aaron’s satisfaction, he found that Sir Ross really hadn’t done a great deal of damage. If Lunar hadn’t had to run away while bleeding… Aaron’s hands froze mid motion.

“What is it?” The man asked. 

“I’m…” Aaron was practically stuttering, “I’m checking this as if you were a man, when really…”

The man nodded. “I am, actually. A man. Or I was, before the curse.”

“The curse?” Aaron asked. Reassured, he took out the balm tubes and reapplied the ointments as he listened.

“I know, it sounds ridiculous. But there was this woman… I was set to marry her to please my father. I had no idea that she was a sorceress and, well, she didn’t suspect that I fancied a certain stable boy. As it turned out, we both discovered who we were really betrothed to on the day when our wedding was to be held.” The man winced a little as Aaron was redressing the wound. The bandage had to be turned a little to the side, so a cleaner part of it was now directly over the injured flesh, but the prince hadn’t meant to make direct contact.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said.

“It’s alright. I…” the stranger seemed almost shy just then, “I rather like your hands at work.”

Aaron felt the need to swallow at that. “Did you love her? The sorceress who cursed you…”

“I told myself that I did. In hindsight, not quite. And not the stable boy, either.”

“Oh. Who did you love?”

Aaron saw the sadness in the smile that twisted the man’s lips. “I didn’t. My father had lathered me when I was younger when he found out I liked another boy. I was… so overcome with being angry at him and with hating myself, I think I forgot how to love.”

Aaron’s heart ached at what he was hearing. At first it did for the man, the ache driven by an impossible desire to erase all that the young boy had endured and never should have. Then it hurt for himself, for being a fool. Those nights together. They meant different things to the two of them. He thought of those as nights of passion and love, while his interlocutor clearly saw them as ones of carnal satiation. Aaron took off what remained of his shirt and offered it up as a cover against the cold.

“So, the curse,” he sought to change the direction of their conversation, “what are its terms?”

The stranger shrugged as he finished wrapping up and securing Aaron’s shirt around his torso. “I’m not entirely sure.” He turned his gaze back to Aaron, his eyes filling with mirth anew. “Unlike what some bards would have you believe, no one stands there and reads out the terms to you. My fiancée, when she had caught us? She spoke some words I couldn’t possibly comprehend. Just like that, I was in excruciating pain. Once I could understand what was going on, I realised I was on all four. Incapable of speaking. When people arrived, she convinced them that she had seen me, had seen this stray dog eating me. The crowd would have skinned me at that moment, had they caught me. I’ve been wandering around ever since.”

“Until you found your way into our gardens,” Aaron added. The man hummed in agreement, still engrossed in the memories he had just recounted.

“Then you don’t know how can the curse be lifted?” Aaron pressed on.

“I have no idea. The only thing I could figure out has been that however it works, it’s tied to the moon.”

Aaron snorted. Of course it would be. “How come you’re in human form tonight if we’re past it being full?”

The man shrugged. “Maybe it’s because of my injury. Because it happened during the last minutes of a full moon night?” he fell quiet. “Or maybe it’s you. Because you heard me.”

“Heard you?” Aaron smiled shyly at him. “I’m not even sure what I’m to call you.”

“Robert,” the man returned the smile and declared plainly, “my name is Robert.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Now what?” Robert wondered aloud.

It was a good question. Aaron was pondering the very same thing. “Come on,” he got up and motioned for them to head back to the castle.

“What, there?” Robert recoiled.

“I don’t see another choice. You said you’re not cold. But if you stay in human form for much longer with only that torn shirt for cover, you will be. There’s the wound too, it’s going to require additional redressing and those same stripes of cloth won’t do for much longer. And,” he pointed out, a little softer in tone, “at the court, I can protect you.” When Robert’s hesitation didn’t seem to dissolve, Aaron considered a possibility he hadn’t before. “Or do you… not wish to continue with me?”

The expression he got in response was the kind reserved for someone speaking lunacy. “If you go back, so will I. Wherever you go, Aaron, I will follow.” 

It was so earnest, it touched Aaron’s very core. Even without hands, he reflected as he began walking toward their destination, Robert was somehow able to make contact with every hidden part of him. The prince didn’t want to indulge in such foolish thoughts again. But a phrase from the night before returned to him. “Robert,” he frowned, “what did you mean when you said you… could be mine if I were yours?”

“I’m not sure,” Robert repeated the shrug that Aaron was becoming well acquainted with. “The words came on their own”.

The prince’s nod at this was rather rigid.

Robert stopped. “It felt real, though. Didn’t you feel that too?”

Aaron turned to him. It did, yet he couldn’t admit to that. “What does it even mean?” he asked uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” Robert replied and took a step closer, “but I would love to find out.” He closed the distance between them and hovered his lips over Aaron’s. Breathing. Smiling, tongue starting to peek out. Aaron couldn’t take it any longer. He captured Robert’s mouth with his and kissed him with all he had. Their hands grabbed at each other, pulling desperately, leaving no space between them. Until there was nothing but them and the kiss left in existence.

It was too all consuming for Sir Ross’ voice to come as anything but a shock. “Yes, we’ve heard about this part of your nature too, beast,” he spat out. They both turned in the direction of the envoy. The next actions happened in such quick succession, none of it seemed real to Aaron. The lightning fast sword that the envoy tried thrusting into Robert. The sharp pain that bit into the prince’s stomach as he stepped in. The world melting into grey, brilliant grey, which obscured everything from sight like a veil. Aaron’s realisation that he was likely dying and how little he was troubled by it. He had done what he needed to do.

It was only sounds that Aaron could still vaguely pick up on. Noises coming from across the grey veil, losing their meaning by the time they’d reached him. He floated and heard Ross, heard Lunar. Sometime later, he couldn’t possibly make out how much later, he heard his own name. Robert. That was Robert’s voice that was calling out to him. He had to make an effort. 

Somehow, Aaron managed to focus his eyes. It was Robert before him and he was bleeding. A wave of horror struck. This could not be happening. Aaron tried to reach out. He was too weak, but within seconds he felt Robert’s fingers closing in over his. Their blood mixing.

“Aaron,” came Robert’s voice, “I think I lied to you earlier. I knew what it meant all along. Right from the start, from the first night in the castle gardens, I just wanted to be with you.” He was struggling to speak. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from him. But I’m glad, you hear me? I’m glad that I won’t have to go on without you.”

At the last part, Aaron had to protest with his whole being. He couldn’t talk, so he tried to rise, to stop this somehow. But the world turned black and darkness claimed him.

*

Aaron blinked. He was surprised to be able to. He recognised his surroundings. He was somehow back in his chamber. In his own bed. What was odder still was his body. He couldn’t feel any pain. He turned his head to the window side of the room. The sun streaming in heavily indicated it was shortly past midday. _Robert_ , he remembered and snapped up. 

On the other side of his bed, splayed out with only the fur rug between him and the floor, was the man he was about to go chasing after. He had a cover over him while he was sleeping in a courtly nightgown.

“Robert?” Aaron asked in amazement and saw the man jolted awake and practically jumping onto his feet in response. Strong arms came up to envelop Aaron and for a second, he had no need for explanations. He simply allowed himself to return the embrace.

After a few long moments, perhaps more than a few, he pulled himself away even as he did not completely let go. “What happened?”

“The short version of it?” Robert grinned, before his features fell into solemn consideration. “You sacrificed yourself for me. And that bastard of an envoy, he was enraged. He wanted to finish you off for getting in his way. I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t, and I found myself back as a canine just in time to shield you. I didn’t attack him the first time I confronted him, when he stabbed me, I knew it would get you in trouble. But I did after he slashed you. I had to, Aaron. He kept picking with his sword at me, but I couldn’t stop. I bit hard and I tore his flesh badly enough that… I’m sorry, but he’s in another chamber of the palace, dying.” Robert stopped, his eyes falling to the sheets.

“Hey,” Aaron took his chin in hand and raised his head back up, “if you’re ashamed or think that you need my forgiveness, don’t. I would have killed him myself if I had the opportunity.”

That brought out a huff of laughter out of Robert. “Well, your mother was pretty furious too. It turned out to have been an ambush. He left with a few of his men and came after you the first chance he had. It took her a while to realise it, but as soon as she did, she sent your own people to intercept him. He tracked us down and was hiding, waiting to have proof of intimacy between us. That gave your mum’s men the time to catch up with us.”

“But,” Aaron’s hand moved to trace the lines of Robert’s body, “I saw you bleeding badly. How…?”

“You don’t remember, I think you passed out right before. Aaron, there was this…” Robert trailed off, shaking his head as if he was still trying to come to terms with what he was describing, “this glimmering moonlight that wrapped everything up around us. Our bloods mixed. Mine was yours and yours was mine. It must have broken the curse. I felt it, I felt the healing power of it. I mean, look at us, both without any scars. Look at me…” he paused again, “I’m human in the daylight.”

Aaron kissed him. Chastely, then once more, deeper. And deeper still. Robert returned the kiss and they could have easily gone on, forgetting anything else. Aaron had to stop them. “I need to speak to my mum, hear what she has to say… This is only the beginning. It means war. You know?”

Robert nodded. “I know. But we’ll face whatever comes together. The moonlight brought me to exactly where I always want to be, no matter the circumstances. By your side.”


End file.
